Rob Ford is a very interesting man. He is definitely not your typical mayor. At Reuters, city politics is not usually something we cover. If we do, it’s usually because of a big city election or a major mayoral scandal. In Toronto, it looks like we may be on the brink of both.

The controversy began back in 2010. That’s when Ford raised eyebrows by soliciting donations for his private football foundation using official city letterhead. Ford’s actions were questioned again when he took part in a council debate and vote on the matter, voting to remove the sanctions that were ordered against him.

The judge’s decision and Ford’s actions made headlines around the world yesterday. In the Twitterverse, Rob Ford was a worldwide top-trending topic for most of the day.

His antics become viral sensations, his quotes become the stuff that journalists dream about.

In the last two years since he has been elected mayor, Ford has made headlines for aggressively confronting a reporter mulling about next to his home. He has made headlines for talking on his cellphone while driving and then giving the middle finger to another driver who called him out on it. And who can forget about the time Ford called 911 after he was approached by a reporter and TV camera from a well-known satirical news show.

Ford is a great person to photograph. You always have to be on your toes because he can be so unpredictable and always makes for great pictures.

Today he made a speech at the Canadian Football League’s Grey Cup parade pep rally after the Toronto Argonauts captured the league’s championship on Sunday. He had just finished giving a speech to congratulate the team when he made his way back to the building. A throng of cameras and reporters anxiously awaited him, but he was not interested in taking their questions about the judge’s order to be removed from office.

However it was Football – the very sport that got him into this mess to begin with – that inspired his latest move to escape the media.

While still wearing his Toronto Argonauts team jersey, he pummeled through the mass of media like a running back breaking the defensive line. His security detail created a path to allow Ford to get through acting like his offensive line. When he finally broke through the hordes of cameras, he ran to the door like the end zone on a football field and he was finally out of site.

It was the best scrum I think I have ever seen – a mayor breaking the scrum by going right through the middle of it.

At the end of the day, whether you hate him or love him, Rob Ford is a journalist’s dream to cover. You can’t ask for much more when covering a politician.

I’ve been to Detroit countless times over the years and though I’ve always known the city to struggle with poverty, I am usually sent to the city to cover another winning Detroit sports franchise, or the glitzy international auto show showcasing the years new cars from all the top auto makers.

As I drove down the highway from my hometown Toronto, I tuned into my favorite Detroit rock radio station 89x as I got close to the border crossing. The radio hosts began to plug an event where people with little means could go and get a free meal. It was just a few days until Christmas, and rockstar Kid Rock, a Detroit native, was putting up the funds to help support his hometown.

I was sent to Detroit to meet with the people who struggle the most during the holidays, to see the places where they seek comfort and to capture the spirit of the locals who reach beyond their own troubles to help out others.

St. Leo Catholic Church, located in the gritty suburbs of Detroit, was my destination. Like many churches across North America, St Leo’s is facing the threat of being closed down or merged with another church.
The Archdiocese of Detroit has said it simply can’t afford to keep it open. John Stoll, the Reuters reporter assigned to write this story, chose to feature this church in particular because of the important services it provides to the community.

As I drove the three miles to the church from my downtown hotel, I began to experience the economic disparity of this city. It is indeed ground zero for the severely weakened American auto industry. Once I passed the big, shiny Motor City Casino, which seems to be the last marker of downtown, I saw a number of abandoned houses that had been destroyed by fire, libraries forced to shut its doors for good, and countless empty lots among barren streets.

But among that disparity is St. Leo’s.

St. Leo’s is much more than just a Catholic church. In the basement there is a soup kitchen where volunteers serve up hot meals to the local residents who can’t afford to eat. They also have a medical center, where people can come and get free medical care and receive free medication from a makeshift pharmacy. The doctors and nurses who provide this service donate their time. In addition to the medical service, dentists provide dental care where patients can receive basic services.

And of course, every Sunday there is a church mass, where the community comes to worship. The church provides hope in a city where help is desperately needed.

Chris Mitchell, a volunteer in the soup kitchen, told me, “sometimes when I walk around this city, I try to picture it as it once was, with people walking around and smoking cigarettes with their sleeves rolled up.”

For Mitchell, that image was a picture of a once thriving automotive town full of confidence and people.

When I looked at St Leo’s from the outside it was hard to imagine that this place had been around for 120 years. A few spare tires can be found in an empty lot across the street and if you wander into the neighborhood around the church, you will find abandoned homes, scorched, empty apartment buildings, tax foreclosure notices on charred front porches, and a lot of vacant land. Maybe a handful of people could be seen walking around the neighborhood.

To try and imagine a thriving city is nearly impossible and I was left to wonder what went so horribly wrong over the years.

In the neighborhood surrounding St Leo’s, I did see a glimmer of hope: someone had built a brand new house right next door to a decaying, abandoned home.

Imagine a campground where people perform everyday tasks but without a stitch of clothing on.

Mowing the lawn, coffee with friends, dinnertime with family members, even board meetings with colleagues — at this camp, there were no exceptions to the no clothes rule.

But Bare Oaks, located about an hour north from Canada’s largest metropolis Toronto, is about more than just nudity. It’s about community and trust, self-respect and self confidence, naturalism and naturism.

Most people might be familiar with the ideas of naturism or nudism. The International Federation of Naturism defines the term as “a way of life in harmony with nature, characterized by the practice of communal nudity, with the intention of encouraging respect for oneself, respect for others and respect for the environment.”

Inside the naturist community at Bare Oaks, clothing is only used for protection, whether it be from the cold or from work that might injure your body, but most of the time you would never see a naturist in clothing unless they left the park and went into the general public.

In other words, this was not a clothing optional campground — if you are uncomfortable being nude, you will be asked to leave. It is hard to trust someone who is wearing clothing among a group of people who are willing to bare it all. Even the workers at the front desk when you arrive are naked.

I was lucky enough to be given access to this campground for several days. In that time I noticed that people embraced nature in a way that most of us just can’t.

For instance, many embraced jogging or daily hikes, relishing in the gentle breezes of the woods. Many of the park’s visitors love to swim and said repeatedly they couldn’t understand how anyone would want to wear a wet soggy bathing suit while swimming. You quickly learn that clothing is only used as a tool.

Inside the park there is a pool, a volleyball court, a restaurant called “Bare Bistro,” camping grounds for rent, a variety store, a pond to jump in, a garden and a trailer community. Some people come up for the day, some can stay for weeks, and some live there permanently.

When you walk around, you can see people tanning, reading, barbecuing, socializing, swimming, walking the dog – and just about anything else you see in any campground. There are people of all ages, about the same amount of men and women. There are a lot of couples, many families, and quite a few single people.

Everyone is welcome.

One thing I need to make clear: Bare Oaks is a family park, not a party zone. Like any family campground, there are children present. Open sexual acts or advances are not permitted nor tolerated and people who don’t comply are quickly removed from the park and banned.

Naturism is not about sex, nor is it narcissistic. Naturism is a place where the human body is celebrated, a juxtaposition to today’s society where being skinny or muscular is seemingly the priority and focus for many.

I was given three days of access to the park, most of which was spent following park owner Stephane Deschenes and park manager Karen Grant and her family.

The first day Stephane gave me a tour of the park, and then I got to sit in on a staff meeting. Stephane gathered his employees to discuss regular routine park maintenance and issues. At the end of the meeting, they started to role play different situations to deal with problems with the clientele that may arise. They talked about what to do about inappropriate behavior such as urinating in the bush, sexual advances, client screening, loud partying, dealing with a man with an erection or any other issue that may arise in the campground.

For those of you that are wondering, if a man finds himself with an erection, he’s told to jump in the pool or cover it up with a towel. In fact, it’s considered proper “naturist” etiquette to always carry a towel with you for sitting on a bench or restaurant.

When people were told I was doing a story on naturism, some were quick to say they did not want to be photographed. Others were not camera shy at all. Many were willing to talk to me, telling me that they have never felt so free and liberated than when they are practicing naturism.

They say its much easier to get to know someone when they have nothing to hide or cover up, and their relationships and conversations become much deeper, much less superficial, giving people who stay at the park a real sense of community.

You must be wondering if I worked nude as well. The answer is yes, I did. Though I was uncertain at first, it took me about 30 seconds to feel completely comfortable. I knew that people would have a hard time trusting me taking photographs of them if I had been covered up. It’s fair to say it was a life experience I’ll never forget.

I’m always amazed at the places my cameras bring me. It was media preview day for the CN Tower’s EdgeWalk, where daredevils walk 356m (1,168ft) above the ground along a catwalk atop Toronto’s famous CN Tower. There’s a safety harness and an overhead rail, but no hand rail at all. Just a metal platform and a view. Not a month earlier, I had photographed the CN Tower being struck by lightning. Thank God this was a clear day.

We had 6 people on our walk. I would be accompanied by 2 text journalists, another photographer, and two tour guides for an excursion that was to last 30 minutes.

The morning started when the tower’s safety personnel attached all manner of clips and cables to my cameras so they could fasten them securely to the bright red jumpsuit they gave us to wear. I brought up a Canon 5d Mark II with a 16-35 wide zoom, and a Nikon D3s with a 24-70. The memory card slots, eyepiece, and battery doors of both cameras were all taped down to make sure nothing fell off. I have dropped a camera maybe once or twice in my life, and I knew this wouldn’t be the time to have an accident.

After the safety crew cleared my cameras, we took a breathalyzer test and were swept for explosives – they don’t want drunks or lunatic violent types rampaging around up there. We then took everything out of our pockets, removed any jewelry or any other loose articles that could fall, and suited up. Before heading to the elevator, we were triple checked by three different safety crew, and were triple checked again by three different people after we got to the top.

I had 6 safety clips attached to my suit in total: There was one on each of my cameras, one for each of my lenses, and two to secure me to the overhead rail. There was no way me, or my cameras, would be falling off the track. After a brief safety explanation, the crew radioed in for the doors to be open, and out we went.

I am not afraid of heights, but at first it was hard to get to the edge, even to look over. I found that my brain would just not allow my body to trust the harness. But after about 5 minutes, I began to feel comfortable. The other journalists were braver than me, and we began to take pictures of them hanging over the edge.

I was brave enough to sort of lean over by the end, and got a few Facebook profile pictures. My reporter colleague got her story and we were good to go.

I have said it before, and I’ll say it again, I am always amazed at where my cameras take me.

(Additional photographs courtesy of Darren Calabrese for the Canadian Press)

I was relaxing Sunday evening killing zombies on the Xbox, when I got a news alert on my blackberry stating Tamil protesters were blocking two lanes of traffic on the Gardiner Expressway. The Gardiner is a major freeway that goes through downtown Toronto. We don’t often see big protests or demonstrations, so my excitement begins to build.

The freeway snakes in between high rise condo buildings, and my first instinct was to figure out a way to get a vantage point up in the building to shoot the protest from a high angle. I spotted a couple of guys enjoying a few beers on their 10th floor balcony and shouted up. They were happy to come down and take me up to a spot overlooking the site of the protest. I took my pictures of the blockaded road, filed them, and got back down to street level to see if I could get in nice and close.

I ran up the onramp to the freeway, and spent a few minutes shooting the flags in the crowd, before making my way to the front lines. The demonstrators were peaceful, and the police seemed to be somewhat patient with the large crowd. Demonstration leaders kept the crowd calm with megaphones, telling them to keep the peace, but that didn’t keep a few aggressive situations from developing.

After I made my way to the front of the protest, some of the demonstrators and police began pushing and shoving, and a protester got hit in the back of the head with a baton by a police officer. I’m still unsure why tempers escalated, but the man emerged from the scuffle with a bloody head. It was extremely dark and though the batteries in my flash were dying, I was able to shoot a frame every 3 seconds and managed to catch the police officer hitting the protester in the head.

The crowd began to yell “Sit down, let the media see what happened!”. People started to sit down as the man emerged from the crowd with a bloody face. I ran down to try to get in nice and close, where I was able to make some frames of him.

Shortly after the scuffle, the demonstrators agreed to leave the freeway, and it was over.